


Wayne Manor Halloween party

by gmartinez12



Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Halloween, Lewd smut, M/M, OC characters, Shota, boysex, the oc names are not related to any other fandom i swear maybe, theyre just fun easter eggs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmartinez12/pseuds/gmartinez12
Summary: What are Damian and Jon like through the eyes of an ordinary boy?One such boy was Jack Allenby, a regular twelve-year-old who had a peculiar dilemma. He always got his best ideas when he was meeting very cute or handsome boys, despite his insistence that he didn't like boys. Probably. Maybe. Sorta. It was his misfortune then (or good fortune?) that he went to school with Damian Wayne, the richest most handsome boy in the school, and Jon Kent, the cutest most adorable boy you could ask for. One chance encounter landed him in the crosshairs of Damian, who was apparently scouting for boys like him.Damian invites Jack to his elite and private Halloween Party together with eight other boys, all sons of wealthy and influential socialites. With Jon leading the way, Jack realizes that Damian's party was far from the trick-or-treating he was used to. Nevermind just getting candy, the party was designed to give him his first time having sex.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne/Original Character(s), Original Characters/Original Characters
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. Beneath the eyes of the creepy manor, and rich boys

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is a year in the making and one of my most ambitious and longest recent fics. I really wanted to try exploring Damian and Jon's relationship between themselves and between boys who could be their friends using the perspective of an OC. Like, if you were in the DC universe how would you react to having Damian Wayne as a schoolmate? What about Jon? And of course, what is it like having sex with them?? These are important questions! Though, while I was writing this I think I went overboard on the OC aspect of things enough that I made 6 other OC boys as foils to the main OC protag, and Damian and Jon are just the final bosses of this sex adventure, lol. I'm not very creative with names, so besides Jack, the other boys' names are pretty much easter eggs, kudos to you if you get it lol. I hope you enjoy this fic that I worked on with maximum effort!
> 
> If you got time, please visit me on twitter or discord especially if you wanna know more about my fic writing process and how you can be a part of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D

****

**Wayne Manor Halloween Party**

**Chapter 1: Beneath the eyes of the creepy manor, and rich boys**

Jack was an unassuming 7th grader minding his own business at West-Reeve School in Metropolis. He was kind and respectful, never caused trouble, and did his best to do well in class. He fancied himself average, and was happy that way.

Which is why he was mortified standing before the imposing columns of the unimaginably stately Wayne Manor.

He was with eight other boys, and was by far the least posh-looking among them. The others he knew by rumor and reputation as the scions of socialites and hedge fund magnates. They were the sons of the richest and most influential adults in Gotham and Metropolis, all ranging from 10 to 14 years old—practically the unspoken princes of their cities. They were dressed in intricate and detailed costumes, since it was technically an elaborate trick-or-treat affair. One of them had a movie-accurate Kylo Ren costume, another had an outfit based on a remake of a Japanese videogame that included a prop sword almost taller than he was, and another even had an armored costume with glowing eyes that looked way too much like the exosuit Batman sometimes wore.

Jack himself was a humble little Dracula, with a powdered face that still bore unmistakable freckles, plastic fangs, and a high-collared black cape that he’d found at a thrift store. He didn’t bother to dye his flaming red hair, which gave the impression that he was a vampire in the process of being immolated head-first.

All of the boys seemed to already know each other. Some of the other boys were chatting merrily and complimenting each other’s costumes. The others fiddled with their phones, already eager for the event to begin. Jack didn’t know how to fit in or how to even say ‘hi’. One thing was certain, though. They knew that Jack was the outsider, the new kid. They were giving him plenty of space while also casting him some very curious looks. Jack thought that he’d be teased by the other boys for being as shabby as he was, or maybe he’d feel awkward among the rich boys. And yet, strangely enough, he felt instead that he was being appraised. He felt like the boys, far from discriminating against him, had already accepted him, and were merely debating on who would get to shake his hand first.

Just then, the large wooden double doors flew open and out came the diminutive figure of Damian Wayne. To Jack’s surprise, Damian was wearing a vampire costume just like his own, with a black high-collared cape, a white dress shirt, and fangs. It was admittedly much fancier than his, since Damian also sported an emerald vest, and a cape with red trimming. Despite the differences, though, having chosen the same basic kind of costume as _the_ Damian Wayne made Jack feel a mild flutter of pride.

All the other boys called out greetings and waved their hands at Damian, and the green-eyed teen acknowledged them with a dismissive wave of his hand. Damian surveyed them all with a satisfied look, nodding at each one. When Damian got to Jack, his eyes narrowed and a satisfied smile crept up his face. Jack chose to take it as a good sign, against the advice of his rational brain.

“Gentlemen,” Damian intoned dramatically, “It’s a pleasure to see you all again this year for our little get-together. I know you all can’t wait for us to start, but first, I’d like to introduce a new member of our secret club.”

Damian gestured to Jack, and the rest of the socialite boys turned to face him with a variety of smiles on their faces. It was all Jack could do to grin sheepishly and wave back at them without dropping his cheap plastic candy bucket.

“Come along now,” Damian continued. “I’ll get Jack settled in on our…ah…celebration. The rest of you can head straight to the main event with me.” He smoothly turned his back on them and nonchalantly beckoned with the back of his hand. The other boys followed with barely restrained giddiness.

Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but seeing Damian like that, just being so casually commanding and with an imperious aura that made you want to follow him into whatever dark corridor he went into, sent a pleasant tingle down Jack’s spine. He was starting to feel something new as well. A sense of queasiness began at his belly, and an all-too-familiar stirring just below that. Right in his…

Before Jack could mortify himself further with the hows and whys of his bodily reactions, another boy that he hadn’t seen among the others appeared at the large doorway and waved him over.

“Hey, new kid! Over here! You’re not gonna stand there all night, are ya?”

The boy looked just a little bit taller than Damian but also just a tad younger. His messy matte-black hair and curved cheeks couldn’t have contrasted more vividly to Damian’s crisp and curated appearance. The boy wore a tattered brown cloak with a headband that had bolts jutting out at either side—a Frankenstein getup, and a rather simple one at that. It made Jack wonder who this boy exactly was, since before then, he’d thought of Damian Wayne as a high-society boy who with his own, yet this new boy was decidedly not a rich man’s son. Of course, Jack himself was an exception to that as well, but it surprised him that he apparently wasn’t the first.

Jack blinked as his memory caught up to him. He knew this boy from school. He was from the…yeah, he definitely was.

“It’s you…!” Jack exclaimed. “From the…”

“Yeah,” the boy beamed. “Sorry I forgot to introduce myself back then, but I was kinda panicking, y’know?”

“It’s fine, really. I didn’t know you’d be here, too.” Jack was beside himself with both relief and worry…worry that he was much too obviously flustered with the boy’s presence, and worry that he was staring too intensely at the boy’s angelic face.

The boy merely shrugged with a silly kind of smile. Jack would’ve thought it adorable if he hadn’t been so nervous.

“I’m Jon. Jon Kent, nice to officially meet you, uh...Jack, right?” Jon said as Jack finally climbed up the steps to shake hands. “Damian told me to get you all sorted out.”

“Uh, right,” Jack managed. “Thanks for having me, Jon.” He was dreadfully sure that he’d just shaken hands with Jon a few seconds too long. He awkwardly halted the gesture, and not knowing what else to do with his hand, he began to smooth his moussed-up hair.

“It’s no probs!” Jon chirped. He put his arm around Jack’s shoulder and led the way inside. “Trust me, you’re gonna have so much _fun_ with us…”

Jack had this first impression of Jon as an all-around wholesome kid, the innocent fun-loving boy-next-door kind of guy. But the way that Jon had said that last bit—and the way he’d giggled after—made Jack pause. He could’ve sworn that in that moment, the good-boy persona had slipped and offered a brief glance of something infinitely more mischievous underneath.

He imagined himself being led into the decadent gaping jaws of Wayne Manor, with a sense that he wouldn’t be coming out of here the same way ever again. Too late, he realized, to reflect and ask himself…

_What have I gotten myself into?_


	2. Meet Jon Kent. He’s cute.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack recalls how he ended up meeting Damian Wayne and Jon Kent. It was one fateful day when his inclination to help cute boys got him to cross paths with the most famous and handsome boy in school, and in turn, got him invited to a very unusual Halloween Party.

**Wayne Manor Halloween Party**

**Chapter 2: **Meet Jon Kent. He’s cute.****

What indeed?

Jack had been minding his own business in school when fate seemingly conspired to shove him into the crosshairs of Damian Wayne’s attention. Of course, everyone knew Damian Wayne in some way or another. If for no other reason, the name ‘Wayne’ was synonymous with uncountable fortune, and also the last name of the school’s most substantial donor. It was a name that everyone knew both in Metropolis and elsewhere, and everyone knew that to be a ‘Wayne’ was to be rich, excellent, and elite. To be a Wayne was to be a celebrity.

Damian himself had a bit of a reputation beyond that afforded by his surname. Jack had heard stories of how Damian was easily a shoo-in for valedictorian of his class, how classes that included him had gotten punished for not keeping up with him, how he’d bribed teachers to polish his boots and ripped off the ear lobes of anyone that had offended him. Jack still wasn’t entirely sure that the last one had been made up, either.

All he knew was that Damian was an intimidating, if not outright scary boy, and he was glad that he was a year below Damian and didn’t share any classes with him. Sometimes he wondered what kind of especially cruel punishment it would be to be friends with Damian, and if those supposed friends weren’t actually just paid manservants in school uniform. Jack was content to just listen to the gossip, and stay in his lane.

Then the damn school pageant had happened.

Jack’s mom had always told him that if he just really applied himself, he could be just as smart as the top student in his class. Sometimes Jack believed her. Mostly, he didn’t. But he couldn’t deny that there were times when he’d get bursts of genius that he couldn’t explain. He also couldn’t…or rather didn’t want to admit that with every instance of inspiration that he’d had, it always— _ always _ —involved a boy that for some inexplicable reason, Jack couldn’t help but ogle at.

It wasn’t that Jack liked boys. No, no, he certainly did not and had always slapped himself to affirm his steadfast belief that he didn’t. But for some reason, he was always drawn to a boy every now and then, and whenever he did, whatever reservations he had about his preferences dissipated at the same time as the air in his lungs.

One such breathless moment had occurred when Jon—then just an anonymous boy to Jack—had bumped into him during the school pageant. West-Reeve School had held a talent showcase a week before Halloween as its de facto celebration, and called it the ‘school pageant’. Jack had been one of the helpers in setting up the auditorium as one of the theater club members, and had been just chilling at the sound booth beneath the stage when Jon had almost crashed into him. He’d apparently been sprinting while carrying a large plastic bag more than twice the size of his head.

“Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry!” Jon had apologized. He’d sounded extremely worried.

“Whoa, there,” Jack had said as he’d steadied Jon. “What’s the matter?”

Jon had pointed up to the stage and said shrilly, “I am  _ sooo _ late! I was supposed to get this bag of confetti up by the stage lights before the show started, but I almost forgot, and I just finished making them and... _ gaah _ !”

“Which group’s performance needs the confetti?” Jack had asked. He’d also wondered how insanely fast Jon was at cutting up confetti if he’d just finished such a large bag of it a while ago.

“The next one,” Jon had replied with an embarrassed smile.

“Oh…” Jack had replied.

At the time, there was already a performance going on—a trio of ninth-grade boys who were doing a sort of punk-rock-based dance, except that their ‘dance’ consisted solely of them taking turns doing handstands, somersaults, and ‘the worm’ every two seconds. The only way to get the confetti up to where the lights were was to use a tall metal ladder, and they’d need to use it in the middle of the stage, guaranteeing a lengthy interruption to the whole program. When Jack had explained this, Jon looked crestfallen.

It was then that Jack had taken a really good look at Jon’s soft features. His adorable cheeks had caught Jack’s eye. Jack had also envied that naturally unkempt but not untidy black hair that just seemed to advertise cheerfulness. Jon’s glasses did less to make him look intellectual and more to make him look like an endearing boy lost in a library. It didn’t help that Jon was wearing the school Phys. Ed. uniform, which aside from being made of loose fabric and short shorts, had the unfortunate effect of exposing the skin of Jon’s arms and legs to Jack’s now hyper-observant eyes. To Jack, Jon was…extremely cute.

Jon had gazed longingly at the stage rafters, looking quite anxious. His body was tense, as if he were preparing himself to jump the full 30 feet it would take to get there. His determination made him even cuter. Something had then switched on in Jack, and his brain spurted out one of those occasional nuggets of brilliance.

Jack had carefully put a hand onto Jon’s shoulder, relishing the heat coming off of the boy as a result of his sprint. “Hey, chill out. You’re staring at the stage like you wanna fly up there!”

Jon gave him a sideways glance with the tiniest twitch of his cute lips. “If I have to.” Jon had looked serious when he’d said it, too.

“No worries, I’ve got a plan,” Jack had assured him. “Follow me!”

The school auditorium, while vast, didn’t bother to recreate all of the elements of an actual theater stage. While it had a lot of stage lights and spotlights on top supported by metal riggings and harnesses that stood on both ends of the stage behind the curtain, it had no catwalks up above. That meant that no one could actually get to the middle where the lights were unless you set up a ladder directly beneath them.

Jack’s idea was simple enough. Behind the curtains, he and Jon had taken their places on opposite sides of the stage and climbed the metal rigging, which wasn’t more difficult than a standard jungle gym. He’d tied the plastic bag to a rope, then threw the other end of it to Jon, allowing them to pull the bag to the center of the stage from above. When all was said and done, the audience was none the wiser, and both Jack and Jon were out of sight as the next act took the stage. As he’d planned, the confetti fluttered down without a hitch.

It was only after he’d climbed down that Jack realized who the performers were—a group of boys in a band, with the lead guitarist being _Damian_ _Wayne_.

After the pageant, Damian had approached Jack with all the candor of a boy who either didn’t know or didn’t care that he was intimidating, and shook his hand.

“My friend here says you’re the reason that our performance went according to plan,” Damian had said. “I want to thank you personally.”

Jack had broken out in a sweat and had internally kicked himself just to muster up the courage to shake Damian Wayne’s hand, with his long slender fingers and smooth skin…

“I...uhm…of course! Uh, it’s really…you’re welcome! Uhm, bro…?” Jack had stammered. The rumors had gotten it right. Damian really was pretty intimidating, given the air of maturity in his voice and the commanding force of his formal personality. What the rumors never really said, though, was just how devilishly  _ handsome _ Damian Wayne really was in person. To have that inexplicable specimen of perfection talking to him short-circuited Jack’s brain, and he’d struggled to find his words.

Jon had seemed to notice and covered for him. “This guy was pretty cool!” He’d told Damian. “It was really smart, using a rope and stuff.”

“Quite,” Damian had agreed. He’d smiled at Jack, but it was a smile that seemed to say something more…something in the vein of ‘I like what I’m seeing here.’

“It was no problem at all!” Jack had said, his voice raising an octave or so and breaking at the end. “I’m so glad I could help you, uh, Damian. Uhm, it’s okay if I call you Damian, right?”

It was just so unfair, Jack had thought, that after seeing a boy as inexplicably cute as Jon, Damian would tag-team him and fry his brain with sheer blinding handsomeness. Jack almost couldn’t breathe with this combo of pure ‘boy’ in front of him and he was acutely aware that he was making a fool out of himself in front of the most famous—and possibly most handsome— boy in the whole school.

He also appreciated that Jon had tried to lighten the mood and calm him down, as if Jon had a vested interest in keeping Jack in Damian’s good graces. Damian was handsome, but Jon had cuteness and charm for days.

“He likes it when you call him, ‘D’,” Jon had explained. “As in…he doesn’t have a very big ‘D’…”

Both Damian and Jack had snorted almost in unison. They’d looked at each other, and then they both looked at Jon, who was cackling with delight at having broken Damian’s formality.

Almost faster than Jack could see, Damian had swiftly jabbed Jon’s side with three fingers, right on the ribs, with all the elegance of a martial arts movie stuntman. Jon had wheezed mid-cackle and then doubled over wheezing. If anything, it seemed like he was struggling to not laugh even harder and then die from forgetting to breathe.

“Haa…hahaha…okay, okay…” Jon had apologized, still trying to rein in his laughter. “I’ll go pack your guitar and stuff already.” He’d waved goodbye at Jack as he climbed up onto the stage.

Jack had been staring at Damian, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. Damian had simply shrugged and explained, “He’s ticklish.”

Damian had said it so casually, almost apologetically, that Jack couldn’t make sense of it. Damian and Jon seemed so familiar with each other, so close, that Jack was willing to bet his left nut that the two were brothers, if not unusually close best friends…or maybe…even more?

“He seems fun,” Jack had said, lest the awkward silence between him and Damian become even worse.

“He’s a good friend,” Damian had agreed. “Would you like to see more of him?”

Jack had done a double-take before fumbling his words again.

“I would wha...I mean, yeah. that’d be cool and…you mean I can hang out with…?” Jack blurted, his hands doing a weird dance that he’d hoped Damian would understand meant Jon and himself.

Damian had smiled at him approvingly. “I’m throwing a little party at my place for a small group of friends on Halloween. Do you want to come?”

_ UH, YEEESSS??  _ Jack’s brain had screamed, but he’d managed a slightly more reasonable, “Heck, yeah! That’d be…wow, are you sure?”

Damian’s lips had curled inward in apparent satisfaction.

“Good. You’ll fit right in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, that thing Jack thought of doing with the confetti is based almost exactly on something that happened to me when I was in middleshchool. 
> 
> If you got time, please visit me on twitter or discord especially if you wanna know more about my fic writing process and how you can be a part of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D


	3. Jon the Scout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon leads Jack into the gaping maw of the ridiculously extravagant Wayne Manor. Jon knows that Jack is nervous as all heck, so he does his part to calm his new friend down. What better way to be familiar with a new boy than to start talking about dicks?

****

**Wayne Manor Halloween Party**

**Chapter 3: **Jon the Scout****

What did Damian mean by that smile? Why was Jon so eager for Damian to like him? These questions and more plagued Jack as he scoured his memories of their first meeting for any kind of hint on how to talk to Damian and his friends. Not only was he frazzled with having two boys he fancied hanging out with him, but he also had to contend with the fact that he felt severely out of place amidst all these rich boys and this insanely rich house.

Wayne Manor had attained a pseudo-mythical status among the denizens of Gotham. It was one of the most elegant residences for miles, and one of the most protected as well. It was sitting atop a hill on a secluded island off the fringes of the city boundaries. It was rumored to have crazy security measures all around, and only one magazine had ever been permitted to take a picture of its façade up close. While its main occupant, Mr. Wayne himself, wasn’t in any way a recluse, he was known to jealously guard his home’s secrets.

That said, no one really knew what it was like inside—especially to a Metropolis kid like Jack—and the opulence hit him like an 18-wheeler truck.

The moment he stepped into the foyer, the atmosphere palpably changed enough that he got goosebumps. The climate was cool and controlled, unlike the humid autumn air outside. A subtle rose-scented perfume wafted through the entire mansion. Jack had to squint as the bright chandeliers above reflected piercing light from various glittering objects—trophies, ornamental weapons, even a couple of suits of armor. Jack felt like he’d stepped into another world, and the shadow that he was casting on the polished marble floor barely even resembled a human shape anymore.

As they walked, Jon kept the conversation going. Jack surmised that Jon possessed an uncanny gift for sociability, with a keen sense of when and when not to talk, and what and what not to say. He knew just how to make someone comfortable, and could tell what someone was feeling. In short, Jon was emphatic, and was the best possible person at that moment to settle Jack's nerves.

“It’s big inside, but if you ask me, it’s kinda lonely without people, y’know?” Jon continued his stream of conversation. “That’s why it’s so awesome when we get to have a party like this—oh, we turn right here. Wanna grab a drink? Snacks, maybe?”

They entered a carved wooden archway and emerged into a cavernous dining hall, with a long table that looked like it could seat twenty people. A large centerpiece bouquet dominated the scene, and the walls were lined with oil portraits of famous landscapes. Each handsome dining chair looked like a throne in itself, and the velvety seats seemed custom-made to only accept butts clad in bespoke suits. Jack felt absolutely shabby in the face of such opulence and hesitated to step forward.

“Are we going to eat  _ here _ ?” Jack asked incredulously.

Jon, sensing his apprehension, assured him, “No, haha, not here. This table’s only for the fancy dinners that Mr. Wayne does.”

He nonchalantly grabbed Jack’s hand and led him to a smaller archway in a corner of the dining room separated by a curtain. “ _ This _ is where we eat. Even Damian and Mr. Wayne just eat here when nothing special is happening.”

Inside was a more modest-looking dining area, though still completely decked-out and also fully equipped with kitchen appliances. Jack took a seat at the central counter while Jon fetched a drink from the massive silver fridge, the kind that had a touchpad and digital screen which Jack presumed could play music and surf the web while you were still deciding which steak to serve.

“Here,” Jon said, placing a mug in front of Jack and clutching another. “This should help you relax.”

“What is it?” Jack asked. The drink looked creamy white and briefly reminded him, rather unpleasantly, of something similarly white and frothy that he’d had inspected with his fingers before he’d gone to sleep last night.

“Soy milk!” Jon beamed. “I absolutely love this stuff! It’s the country boy in me. It just slides down your throat and makes you feel good…”

Jack winced and berated himself for inwardly laughing at the innuendo. Being alone with a boy as cute as Jon was the worst possible time to think of dirty thoughts. Jon didn’t seem to be the kind of boy who liked that stuff anyway. He took a sip and then guzzled the whole cup in a single gulp.

“Wow, you’re right,” Jack agreed. “This stuff is wicked good.”

“Right?” Jon replied. “Damian doesn’t really like soy milk, but he keeps their fridge stocked for whenever I come over.”

“I guess you come over a lot, then,” Jack ventured. He was testing his ability to hold a decent conversation with Jon.

Jon simply shrugged and gave him a toothy grin that looked criminally charming.

“So,” Jack said. “You and Damian…you said you were from the countryside…?” He didn’t fail to pick up on that nugget of info that Jon had so casually dropped. Had it been intentional? Either way, Jack wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste. Jon was inviting him to talk, and Jack was very willing to oblige him.

“I know, I know,” Jon began, turning his palms up in concession. “Damian doesn’t seem like someone who'd make friends with us common folk, right? But he’s actually really cool once you get to know him. We’ve been best friends for over a year now! Our dads even set things up so that we can go to the same school, even though he lives in Gotham. He comes to school in a helicopter. A  _ helicopter _ !” Jon emphasized by mimicking the spinning rotors with his hands.

“How do you even get to be friends with someone like that?” Jack pressed. He was genuinely curious now how Jon was so chummy with the richest boy in Gotham.

“Our dads…knew each other from work…” Jon said, rather evasively. “Mr. Wayne owns a lot of land, you know, and he was friends with my dad ‘cuz of that, and then we moved to Metropolis. Our dads kept wanting Damian and me to be friends, even though we were nothing alike.”

“Damian must have been…quite a piece of work back then…”

“I like to think I softened him up a little, after all those sleepovers…” Jon grinned. Jack was certain he saw something infinitely mischievous flash in Jon’s eyes again. It was getting harder and harder to keep those dirty thoughts away.

“You just gotta get over his, uh, rudeness,” Jon continued.

“That’s a lot to get over,” Jack said.

“It’s just a defense mechanism, trust me. He’s soft inside…and he likes me,” Jon explained nonchalantly.

It took all of Jack’s self-control not to impulsively ask if ‘like’ meant ‘ _ like _ -like’. He didn’t know if Damian Wayne liked boys the same way that Jack had convinced himself he didn’t. “He does seem to like your jokes,” he said instead.

“Yeah, remember how he  _ almost _ started laughing like mad at the school pageant when I introduced you?” Jon asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah...when you…” Jack could tell he was falling into a trap. He already knew that he was going to say something deeply embarrassing. But he couldn’t have stopped even if he'd wanted to, and he wasn’t sure he did. Jon didn’t seem to want him to stop either. “When you...were joking about how small his dick was…?”

“Who said it was a joke?” Jon asked, his face nothing but conspiratorial. Gone was the innocent playful boy, now replaced by a sly and naughty playboy.

“You’ve seen his...dick?” Jack asked in reply, aghast at his own question. And yet, he was quickly becoming progressively more interested, in more ways than one.

“Jack, buddy,” Jon began, pulling his glasses lower as though he was covertly sharing a secret. “I’ve done way more than just  _ see _ it.”

“I…” Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And yet he was inexplicably excited, happy, and eager all at once. Jon’s meaning was clear enough. So clear, in fact, that the outpouring of implications grabbed Jack’s mind and flung it into the deepest part of the gutter.

“You and Damian...do stuff…?” he finally mustered, with a nervous but hopeful grin on his face.

Jon beamed at him with his white perfect teeth. It seemed almost patronizing, as if Jon had been expecting Jack to arrive at that conclusion much earlier.

“He  _ loves _ it!” Jon confirmed emphatically. “And I do, too! I mean, what do you think we do on all our sleepovers?  _ Sleep _ ?”

They both laughed heartily. Jack understood that his laughter meant assent, understanding, and agreement all rolled into one. He was drinking Jon’s kool-aid, and he was now most definitely sure he wanted more.

“I’m just...wow. Thanks for telling me that,” Jack said. “I kinda was thinking that you two were tight, but now I know it’s way more than that.”

“Hey,” Jon snapped, although playfully. “We’re still both tight. Down there, I mean.” He finished with a wink. 

Jack knew he’d just blushed with all the force of a thousand suns, because his cheeks were almost painfully warm.

“But don’t take my word for it, Jack,” Jon continued, as if he hadn’t just talked about his butthole. “You’re gonna find out yourself tonight. I told you that we’re gonna have a lotta fun, remember?”

“You mean this...this whole party thing was…” The implication hit Jack like a full-force punch from Superman himself. Damian Wayne’s party...was going to consist of a night of debauchery and sex. “A sex party?”

“That’s not a bad way to put it,” Jon agreed, sporting a sly smile that promised nothing but mischief.

“And all those other boys…?” Jack asked. He was shaking a bit now, not out of nerves, but out of sheer unbridled excitement.

“Yup, they’re all in on it,” Jon replied. “Damian started this Halloween gig three years ago. Since then, he's scouted all our other secret friends whenever he attends the business parties that his dad goes to. He got to know the sons of his dad’s friends, and here we are now. I met Damian last year, and I got to be part of last year’s.” 

“But how did you know that they were...that  _ I’m _ the kind of boy that’d like...stuff?” Jack asked, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple and tracing a clear line on his thin white face paint.

“Damian can tell,” Jon said matter-of-factly. “I can, too. Let’s just say that when I met you at school, I knew you’d be the kind of guy we could be friends with. It’s how you were looking at me an awful lot.”

“Oh, uhm, sorry,” Jack said as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Don’t be,” Jon said with a boyish giggle. “I guess I liked the attention, too. Your eyes, your expressions, and your heartbeat—they were all saying  _ ‘he’s cute _ !’”

A part of Jack wanted to ask how it was humanly possible for Jon to listen to heartbeats. But he listened instead to another part of him that made him blurt out: “You  _ are _ ! You’re honestly one of the cutest most charming boys I’ve ever...met.” 

Jack instinctively covered his mouth in shock. He’d never said anything like that out loud before. Not even when he was alone. He wasn’t supposed to like boys. That was...bad somehow, right? And yet, if it was bad, why did he get all of his best ideas from handsome boys? Why did it feel so good to talk with cute boys? Jack could only arrive at a singular conclusion: He did like boys very much, and liking boys was  _ good _ .

“I like you, Jon,” Jack confided, hesitant no more.

Jon got up and stepped over to Jack’s side of the counter. He offered his hand to Jack, which the latter immediately accepted. Jon helped Jack up and they just stood there looking into each other's eyes. The newfound revelations about their inclinations promised so much to look forward to. Jack couldn’t help but squeeze Jon’s smooth hand.

“I’m glad,” Jon told him with a grin. Then he leaned in close to Jack’s ear and whispered, “I’m gonna make you feel extra-good just for that.” 

Jack audibly let out a breath in reply. He was well past caring that he was fully hard inside his black slacks, and he was already busy imagining the things that Jon was gonna do with him right there and then.

Jon didn’t fail to notice Jack’s obvious arousal and giggled, “Not here, ya perv!”

“Oh, heh-heh, sorry,” Jack grinned sheepishly. 

“It’s a party after all,” Jon explained. “Don’t wanna leave the others hanging. They all wanna get close and personal with you. We’re gonna go to the funhouse! C’mon!”

“The wha—hey!” Jack barely got to say as Jon yanked him by the hand and led him off to more parts unknown in the vast expanse of the manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I fucking love soymilk lol. Also, Damian is a highly trained warrior/assasin. He can definitely tell from someone's body language if they're crushing on him XD
> 
> If you got time, please visit me on twitter or discord especially if you wanna know more about my fic writing process and how you can be a part of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D


	4. The Funhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally takes Jack to the main event of the Halloween Party, the funhouse. It was a home-made maze made from cardboard and paper-mache that Jon and Damian created specifically for this event. At the center of the labyrinth is all the candy you can eat, but to get to it, Jack has to brave some scary stuff, including the prospect of losing his virginity in the next few minutes to some of the richest boys in the city.

****

**Wayne Manor Halloween Party**

**Chapter 4: **The Funhouse****

Wayne Manor was as elegant as it was excessive. It was said to have been designed and built by the Wayne patriarch some hundred years ago, a man who had the oddest quirk of being obsessed with Victorian-era architecture. He’d supposedly styled the manor as if it was a British castle that belonged in a documentary on the History Channel. This was why the wannabe-castle house had what was essentially a ballroom, with all the open space and grandeur that was more befitting a five-star hotel...or an Italian cathedral. 

The Wayne family had used the space to hold lavish parties, but the current generation of Waynes hardly ever saw the need to do so, leading to the ballroom’s disuse for most of the year. As Jon explained it, this left Damian free to do with it as he pleased, which was why his lascivious Halloween parties took place there.

Far from the open space fit for dancing that Jack expected, though, the ballroom that he was led into was eerily...different.

“Well, here it is,’ Jon announced, his eyes gleaming. “The funhouse!” He waved an arm at the formerly wide entrance to the ballroom, except it was walled off with some sort of grey paper-mache or styrofoam. A jagged gap lay in the middle—seemingly the only way inside— forebodingly spewing a kind of white mist.

“What...is this, exactly?” Jack asked, his boner deflating for the time being at the sheer creepiness of the...whatever it was that Jon was leading him into.

“Think of it like one of those scary horror houses,’ Jon offered. “It’s Halloween, after all, so we gotta get into the spirit somehow. Damian and I have been working on this almost all month, and it turned out just as scary and awesome as we wanted it to be.”

“So...we’re going in there...to have...se…” Jack still couldn’t bring himself to finish saying it. It also didn’t help that he was genuinely scared at the prospect of going inside, and was feeling lightheaded from the feel of Jon’s warm hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, right—I forgot to tell you how this works. Duh!” Jon said as he lightly tapped his forehead. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new to this. The way we’re talking, I could’ve sworn we’d been jerking each other’s dicks for years!”

“Heh-heh...right...jerking…” Jack gulped. Just that lone offhanded comment from the super-cute Jon was enough to make him pop a chub.

“Anyway,” Jon continued, “it’s basically like a maze. It’s not too hard, but we made it so that there’s a lot of corners to hide in. The middle of the maze is the prize—it’s like all the candy you can ever want, and then some. But watch out for the other guys already in there, ‘cuz the only way you’re allowed to stop them from beating you to it...is by being very grabby, and tire them out.”

“Grab...what?” Jack asked, but the answer came to him even before Jon flashed him a lewd smile. 

“Anything you _like_ ,” Jon replied with a sly chuckle. His expression promised nothing but naughtiness and perversion. “Oh, and a, friendly word of advice...everyone here already thinks you’re really cute, and they _miiiight_ have talked each other into making this a bit of a welcoming party for you.”

“Wait, what?” Jack sputtered. 

Jon merely winked at him, slapped his butt, and then ran off inside the maze with what Jack thought was inhuman speed. 

With a dozen questions left hanging on his lips, Jack went against his better judgment and cautiously entered the maze. He was still tightly clutching onto his plastic pumpkin-shaped bucket like it was the last vestige of his innocence as he knowingly stepped through what might be his first real sexual experience.

The first few yards were normal enough. The main entrance led into a narrow hallway of sorts made from cardboard walls painted cement gray with some splashes of red to simulate blood. Fake cobwebs made from cotton lined the top edge of the walls and the lights were dimmed, adding to the creepy atmosphere.

The hallway eventually led into a wider space, an atrium of sorts, with three paths branching off to the east, north, and west. Jack hesitated as he pondered on his next move and reminded himself that this was all fake, he wasn’t really in danger, and that the only people there were the same boys that he knew posed no danger to him. That they presumably wanted to get intimately acquainted with him was something he tried hard not to classify as danger, but his nerves were still twitching as if it was. After all, any twelve-year-old would be nervous about the prospect of their first time. 

Jack raised his arm and pointed a finger. He spun around while his eyes were closed, deciding to let fate choose his path. When he opened his eyes, his finger pointed at the rightmost path, but before he could take a single step forward, a tall black boy ran out from that very same passage and tumbled onto the floor. Instinctively, Jack ran over to him and helped him to sit up.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked. He caught a whiff of something from the boy that smelled strongly of cinnamon and nutmeg. 

The boy coughed a bit before replying, “Yeah, thanks for the assist.” 

“No problem,” Jack said. The boy took his hand and got back onto his feet, and Jack felt his heart hammering again. The boy was easily a foot taller than him, with narrow glasses and neatly-kept curly hair. He had broad shoulders and toned arms, which were bare because his Green Arrow costume was sleeveless. His expression was confident and calming, and Jack couldn’t help but imagine the boy’s strong arms wrapping around him from behind in a warm embrace.

Jack realized that he hadn’t stopped holding the boy’s hand after a full five seconds of him getting up, so he began shaking hands with him to cover his embarrassment. “I’m Jack, by the way! Jack Allenby.”

“Oh, hey, you’re the new kid! My name’s Mike. Mike Hanlon. Glad to have you here,” Mike said, returning the handshake and smiling warmly at Jack.

The mental image of mellow flowing fudge on a fondue flashed into Jack’s thoughts, and he had to stop himself from staring too much at Mike’s lovely lips and wondering if they were as sweet as chocolate. He blinked, then somewhat clumsily attempted to pivot the topic to mask his awkwardness. 

“So, Mike, what happened in there? I was about to go that way when you ran out looking like someone was out to eat your guts.”

“It felt like it, to be honest,” Mike said, idly scratching the back of his ear. “Wayne outdid himself this time. There was some sort of mutated zombie with his jaw hanging out and stuff that fell from the ceiling and flew at me. Even sprayed me with something funky and Ialmost thought it was real blood for a sec.”

“Z-zo-zombie?” Jack spluttered. “Jon didn’t say anything about monsters…”

“Jon probably enjoys the thought of spooking you so he didn’t tell you. He’s a little imp when no one’s looking,” Mike said, leaning closer as if sharing something scandalous. “He’s hung out with Damian way too much, if you ask me. Damian should learn to share that kid.”

Jack gulped nervously, recognizing the sexual implication of Mikes’ remarks while at the same time in awe of how nonchalantly the older boy said it. 

Without skipping a beat, Mike continued. “Sure, it was just a cheap prop on a ceiling harness, and I probably tripped a wire or something for it to pop out. See, Wayne is a crafty little shit, I don’t know how he does it, but he knows how to make traps and put the fear of god in you. This whole maze is rigged with scary gimmicks like that. It’s fun getting a jump scare or two, but body horror is my weak point.”

Mike put his arm around Jack, oblivious to how Jack shivered slightly in excitement at the touch, and pointed at the three doorways. “See, the leftmost path is the ‘not scary at all’ route. The middle one is the ‘scary’ route and the one on the right is the…’very scary’ route.”

“How do you know that?” Jack asked.

“I went through all of them,” Mike replied with a toothy grin. “I honestly love the things Wayne comes up with, so I wanted to see how much I could take before I got freaked out.”

“What’s in the ‘scary’ route?” Jack ventured, looking up at Mike in admiration.

“Well, I got jumped by a demon murder clown with needle teeth, so that was cool,” Mike began, missing Jack’s audible gulp. “But also further in, Jon snuck up on me and gave me a surprise hickey while cupping my junk.” He turned his head to show Jack the slightly swollen mark on his neck.

“He...grabbed your…? Jack gasped, unable to finish.

Mike looked over him thoughtfully with a hand on his chin, accentuating just how much taller he was than Jack. “You’re nervous about the sex because it’s your first time, right?”

Jack was so ready to deny it, he was ready with a witty retort in mind to show Mike he wasn’t a scared little baby, that he was super stoked to have all the sex. But after fumbling a few words, he ended up looking away and just saying “...yeah.”

“Hey, cheer up l’il buddy—chin up!” Mike said reassuringly as he gently turned Jack’s cheek to face him again. “Everyone here is a good guy inside, if a little rough around the edges. We’re not full of ourselves, either, unlike most people think just because our parents are rich. Damian chose us because we’re good to hang out with, and sex is only really fun when you do it with good people.” Mike finished with a sage nod. 

“Thanks, I guess I needed to hear that,” Jack sighed in relief.

“Trust me, everyone here is excited to meet you,” Mike smiled. “And I get that you’re nervous, so I promise not to start anything with you until you wanna, and I’ll even walk with you through the maze, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks—having you here really helps calm me down,” Jack said. “And, it’s not like I don’t want to do anything with you! You’re super-cool and awesome and uhm...stuff. But yeah, I just gotta pace myself, you know?”

“I understand completely,” Mike replied. “So how about this, I’ll start you off with a kiss. Would that be okay?”

Jack could only nod. Mike leaned in and closed his eyes, and every inch of space that diminished between Jack and Mike’s puckered lips sent waves of anxious excitement to his frenzied tween body. When Mike finally met his lips, Jack felt all the air evaporate from his lungs. He felt the need to inhale as deeply air as possible, and in doing so caught more of Mike’s sweet, intoxicating scent. The pressure on his lips was gentle, warm but not searing. Jack expected Mike to use tongue—something he saw in all the porn—but Mike wasn’t doing that. It was a chaste kiss, a kiss of pure affection with no hint of hidden desire. 

Mike slowly broke it off, and smiled fondly at Jack. “There, how was that?”

Jack grinned sheepishly and said, “Magical…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the point where you'll see the naming easter eggs lol. Hope you appreciate them, and if you get the references, drop me a comment! Again, they're just fun little nods and arent the actual characters of their origin series.
> 
> If you got time, please visit me on twitter or discord especially if you wanna know more about my fic writing process and how you can be a part of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D


	5. Rich boys by day, horny boys by night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his new friend Mike, Jack continues onward through Damian and Jon's maze of fright and horror. More than any jumpscares, however, Jack is taken aback when he meets another one of Damian's boys, one more straightforward about his sexy intentions. Jack realizes that the newcomer was the boy that had been eyeing him the most when they were still waiting outside, and he gets a first-hand demonstration on why this new boy calls himself the 'maestro of love'.

****

**Wayne Manor Halloween Party**

**Chapter 5: Rich boys by day, horny boys by night**

Jack decided to opt for the ‘scary’ route, since that was where Jon had last been seen. Mike walked with him, all the while telling him about how he’d met Damian. It was just as Jon had claimed—Mike had been recruited after Damian had talked to him a few times on several big-wig corporate parties where many of the parents had brought their kids as show-trophies. He was the fourteen-year-old son of the CEO of Derry Foods, a corporation based in Maine that owned two dozen different restaurant and food joint brands with more than a hundred branches all over the country. 

“Weirdly enough, people expect me to be fat because of my dad’s business,” Mike continued. “They kept saying that when I was a kid, so that kinda pushed me to be an exercise freak, I guess.” He briefly paused his story to press Jack firmly against the wall in order to avoid the murder clown prop that Mike had mentioned earlier. After springing out from the right with a frightful laugh, it retreated back into the alcove from where it had come.

“Wow, how does Damian get to build all this?” Jack asked. 

“Well, Damian’s dad is richer than all of us combined, I suppose,” Mike mused. “The rumor goes that Damian is Bruce Wayne’s son from an affair and that his dad didn’t know about him until a few years ago. To make up for lost time, his dad spoils him silly. Probably has an unlimited credit card or something.”

“He said Jon helped him build this,” Jack offered.

“I don’t doubt it”, Mike said. “That kid is as hardworking as they come, I heard he was raised on a farm. That and he follows Damian like a cute little puppy. Damian might have had the smarts to do all this rigging and mechanics, but Jon works really fast and hard. And I do mean  _ fast.  _ I swear, sometimes I think he’s the son of the Flash sometimes, with how fast he gets to places.”

“You think his dad really  _ is _ the Flash?”

“Nah,” Mike replied. “His dad’s just some news reporter or something in Metropolis.”

Suddenly, a shadow caught both boys’ eyes. It was definitely another boy, and that figure swiftly ran away once it was clear that he’d been seen. Mike and Jack gave each other a look and then sprinted after the figure, rounding a turn and avoiding a swarm of eerily realistic plastic vampire bats on strings that attempted to fly into their faces.

Mike—being obviously more athletic—ran ahead, forcing Jack to pick up the pace. Jack himself wasn’t exactly the most active of boys, so he was totally unsurprised when he tripped on something and hurtled face-first onto the floor. He gasped and shut his eyes, bracing for the pain, but none came. He instead felt a pair of arms wrapped around him, saving him from the fall. He turned to thank his saviour, which he expected to be Mike, but he was instead met by a bespectacled freckled face with shaggy black hair. The new boy broke into a gale of laughter, as if him almost getting a concussion was comedy gold.

“You got two left feet on ya, huh, new kid?” the boy mused, helping Jack to his feet and pretending to dust off his chest but in a manner that Jack thought was meant more to stroke his nipples behind his shirt. 

“Uh, thanks for catching me,” Jack said awkwardly.

“Richie!” Mike called out as he approached the other boys. “You tripped him up on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What…?” Jack asked, more rhetorical than anything. 

Richie shrugged with unabashed swagger as if saying “Who, me?” and “Yeah, it was me, oops,” at the same time. It reminded Jack of the way Han Solo would shrug in the Star Wars movies, which totally fit because Richie was indeed wearing a nearly perfect replica of the famous space rogue’s costume complete with an expensive-looking replica blaster.

“How else was I supposed to introduce myself to this cutie, when you’ve already got him in your clutches, Mike?”

“Very funny,” Mike said sarcastically.

“How ‘bout you, Mike? Got any good chucks from our new friend here? I bet you're just dying to chuck your dick inside—”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike retorted. The admonition was odd, but it seemed like an intimate understanding between Mike and Richie, reminding Jack that the boys here were very close and that he was very much an outsider.

Richie sighed and clapped Jack on the back. “Sorry, new kid. Meant nothing by it.” 

“It’s alright,” Jack said meekly. He wasn’t unaware that Richie slyly slid an arm around his shoulders, and that Richie’s smooth fingers were subtly toying with his hair. “I’m Jack.”

“Howdy, Jack,” Richie said as he gave Jack an even tighter one-armed hug. “As you might have heard, I’m the master of laughs and the maestro of love—Richie!. And, not gonna lie, I’m so happy to finally talk to you. You’re the cutest boy here, you know that?”

“Uh…thanks?” it just occurred to Jack that he remembered Richie’s face from when he’d still been waiting outside the Manor. Richie was the one who had been staring at him the most. To say that Jack was extremely flustered at being called ‘cute’ was an understatement. He was fairly certain that his cheeks were currently as red as his hair.

One thing was for sure, though—Richie was a budding socialite. Whether he was a master of love was at this point still debatable, but he was definitely a master of conversation, putting Jack at ease with how smoothly Richie talked to him and Mike. It helped that Richie was apparently the same age as himself. Within just a few minutes of meeting one another, Jack already felt like he’d known Richie for years, laughing at his jokes and joining in the banter. It was as if his earlier feelings of being an outsider vanished without a trace.

As their conversation later revealed, Richie took after his father, a fairly famous state senator who was renowned for his public speaking prowess. Despite being a career politician, the man had a talent for wit and humor even in political speeches, enough that people mistook him for a stand-up comedian in a previous job. Richie seemed to effortlessly channel his father’s aptitude for sociability, something that Jack was both amazed at and envious of.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Richie said after a neatly calculated segue. “You’re the cutest boy I’ve ever seen, and I don’t believe in love at first sight but...man, I think I’m crushing on you hard right now.”

“I’m not cute!” Jack insisted reflexively. Richie was flattering him in ways that he hadn’t ever experienced before, and his poor brain couldn’t process all the emotions he was going through. “I’m not as good-looking as any of you, my costume sucks, I’m always awkward...why would you even like me?”

“Shhh…” Richie purred. He put a finger on Jack’s lips, as if to stifle any further self-deprecating commentary. “Jack, it’s never easy to see past your own faults. But someone else can see through all that and appreciate the good under all your own doubts. There will always be someone who will like you for who you are, for how beautiful you are. Right now, that’s me…”

The way Richie so easily slid into a comforting tone—with precociously empathetic words that were beyond his age—just caught Jack so off-guard that he couldn’t help but agree. 

“You think I’m...beautiful?” Jack repeated.

Richie leaned in closer to his ear so that the skin of their cheeks were touching, and whispered, “You’re stunning.”

Jack felt a shiver down his spine, this time definitely out of excitement. When Richie and Mike noticed it, they burst into a fit of giggles, and Jack found himself laughing along with them.

“Thanks for coming to my TED talk,” Richie joked, after regaining his composure.

“I guess you're not always full of bullshit, huh, Richie?” Mike said with a smirk that was nonetheless impressed.

“Excuse you!” Richie replied in mock shock. “I’m perfectly capable of dishing out copious amounts of bullshit.” 

All three of them began laughing again, but when they settled down, Richie adopted a more serious look and turned to Jack again. “I’m not kidding, Jack, I meant everything I said.”

“I...believe you,” Jack said, surprised at how confident he was with the sentiment.

Richie smiled, and it was a more sincere smile than the ones he’d make when cracking jokes. “So, you know how we’re all here to mess around and have fun, right? The sex kind?”

“Yeah, I clued him in, but it’s his first time, so take it slow,” Mike replied as Jack nodded.

“Okay, good. Well, I really want to kiss you, Jack. Can I?”

“Richie won’t bite, I promise,” Mike reassured Jack. “And if he does, we can just bite him back.”

“Joke’s on you—I like being bitten,” Richie replied, but before he could continue, Jack grabbed his hand.

“Richie, kiss me.”

It wasn’t a request, and it wasn’t a shy little favor or a meek suggestion, either. Jack was  _ commanding _ someone. For the first time that night, Jack finally felt like he was in control of himself. There was this sense of buildup in his self-esteem that had been kindled by the boys he’d met so far, beginning with Jon, and then Mike, and now Richie. Now he palpably felt it reach a threshold that he’d never experienced before, enough that he was confident enough to ask for something he wanted without being shy or hesitant about it.

He’d thought of himself as an outsider—someone beneath all these boys and their games and their friendships. He’s felt himself unworthy, that it wasn’t his place. But in just the span of a few hours, the boys here had shown him that he was wanted, he was appreciated, and most of all, he was  _ equal _ . There was no need for modesty in any sense of the word. These were Damian Wayne’s boys, and Jack was as much of a Damian Wayne boy as anyone else there.

That’s why when Richie kissed him, Jack didn’t feel any sort of surprise or embarrassment. Instead, he felt a great sense of satisfaction, both with himself and with what these boys thought of him. He wasn’t even surprised as Richie’s tongue began probing inside his mouth. It was vapid, ecstatic, like a hungry living thing that knew nothing other than to feed. Despite it being the first tongue that he’d ever had in his mouth, Jack accepted it gladly. If he was honest with himself, he expected it. He  _ wanted _ it. The pleasure from the velvety texture of Richie’s tongue and the warm, moist sensation of their breath mixing with each other was a shot of pure adrenalin directly to Jack’s brain. He felt light-headed but alert as his senses endeavored to memorize this poignant and passionate kiss that blurred the line between need and want. 

Richie’s hand snaked up Jack’s back until it reached the back of his head, stroking his ember-red hair. Richie wasn’t trying to push his head from behind, like what Jack had seen in many porn videos. Instead, it felt more as if Richie just wanted to feel every inch of Jack’s body with his hands, tasting Jack through his palms and fingers. Richie’s other hand massaged his chest, venturing lower and lower with each passing second until it was finally kneading his achingly-hard boy dick through his black slacks. Jack had wanted it so badly and expected it so eagerly, yet the intense sensation of being groped for the first time surprised him enough to make him finally drop his pumpkin candy bucket. He barely even noticed.

Jack wasn’t even thinking when he returned the favor, groping Richie with equal intensity. He was even the first to begin unzipping Richie’s fly in a frantic bid to caress the skin of the other boy’s clearly throbbing cock. Richie beat him to it, though, as Jack felt a novel kind of heat radiating from his dick that he’d never imagined in his young life—the warmth of someone else’s hand. 

Jack might have moaned a little, and he didn’t care. In short order, Richie had pulled his dick out of his pants and was already stroking it vigorously. Jack had fished out Richie’s own boyhood and started awkwardly pawing at it. He was far too distracted to properly stroke it because Richie was so adept in manhandling his man-handle combined with the oddly sexual sensation of having Richie sucking and licking his neck.

Jack felt Mike’s chin resting on his shoulder. The older boy began nuzzling Jack’s cheek with equal amounts of care and lust. Out of instinct, Jack reached out with his other hand to where he knew Mike’s crotch was, hoping that Mike already had his cock out. He wasn’t disappointed when he grasped the teen’s girth, and was amazed by how much thicker it was than his own or Richie’s. For a few blissful seconds, the three of them stayed like that, jerking off each other’s dicks, reveling in the pleasure and wishing it would never end. 

Actually seeing and inspecting his new friends’ dicks was something Jack longed to do, but there just wasn’t any chance for it. Doing so would mean breaking off this daisy-chain of masturbation that they’d started, ending that pleasurable high, which would surely feel like the end of the world, or so Jack thought. His eyes were shut most of the time as he stroked and was stroked in return, but he’d peer through them from time to time just to see the look of sheer pleasure on Richie and Mike’s faces. He settled for inspecting the other boys’ dicks through touch, letting his fingers trace and memorize the curves and contours of the first two penises that he'd ever seen in real life aside from his own.

Something shifted in their perpetual human wank engine when he felt Richie kiss his collarbone and progressively kiss and lick all the way down his chest. Richie continued down to his belly button, and then…

Jack knew what was gonna happen next. His dick violently jerked in Richie’s hand in anticipation. He watched dumbfoundedly as Richie knelt down and without any pause, put the pink head of his dick in a new plane of unimaginable pleasure. 

_ Richie was sucking his dick. _

Jack had only ever dreamed of it in secret, denying himself even the curiosity for it, but deep down he’d longed to feel what it would be like to perform the fabled sex act known as...a blowjob. Now Richie had just made that dream come true, plunging Jack’s dick into the warm wetness of his mouth, at the complete mercy of an unrelenting tongue. It was so new, so overwhelmingly good, that all of Jack’s willpower was not enough to stay his immature body’s autonomous betrayal. 

“ _ Gyaah! _ ” Jack squealed. He practically jumped back from Richie, his dick comically springing up and out of Richie’s mouth and flicking his nose. Jack fell onto his ass on the floor shivering with delight. All told, the blowjob had lasted only three seconds, but to Jack, it felt like an eternity of torturous pleasure. He was already mad at himself for ending it far too soon.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” Richie asked as the boy scooted over to his side, helping him to sit up. “My blowjob couldn’t have been that bad . . . could it?”

“Richie, did you bite him?” Mike asked, a little upset that Jack’s hand was no longer on his thick cock. 

“I swear on five generations of Toziers that I did  _ not _ bite his dick,” Richie replied indignantly, holding up his hand in a three-finger Boy Scout salute.

“I’m f-fine,” Jack stammered, still reeling from the involuntary shock that his body had just given him. His dick felt searing hot, like a stiff iron rod with a fiery glowing tip. “I think...I think my dick felt a bit too...uhm...raw when Richie started sucking it? It’s the first time I ever got sucked…” Jack grinned guiltily at Mike and Richie. 

Jack was about to suggest that they continue, but before he could, Richie was standing up and offering him a hand. 

“Sorry, Jack,” Mike said. “I think we went a little too fast and too hard for your first time.”

“No, no, it’s—”

“You gotta train your stamina, bro!” Richie chimed in, cutting Jack off. “I only got your head in my mouth, and that’s  _ nothing  _ compared to what Jon can do. Damn, just thinking about him doing me is gonna make me nut right here.”

“Damian’s good at it, too,” Mike added. “Though, his style is more of torturing you before he lets you cum in his mouth. Feels like he’s sucking your soul out of your dick!”

A little whimper escaped from Jack’s lips as he imagined the devilishly handsome Damian and the impossibly cute Jon naked together and beckoning him forward. 

“I think you need to take a breather and pace yourself first, Jack,” Mike suggested. The concern and authority in his voice made Jack believe for a second that Mike was his older brother, despite the fact that he was an only child. “We don’t wanna drive you crazy this early in the game.”

“But…!” Jack protested, but the stinging sensation on his glans made him bite his tongue. 

Suddenly, Richie threw himself at Mike. He gave the taller boy a tight embrace, but it took only half a second for Jack to realize that Richie was humping Mike’s thighs.

“ _ Miiiiike _ ,” Richie pleaded lustily. “I r _ eeeeally _ need to nut right now and since Jack needs to take five, will you get me off,  _ pleeeease _ ?”

Mike chuckled and shook his head as though saying ‘Ah well, it can’t be helped.’ He turned to Jack and said, “You can go on through the maze without us. Gotta take care of Richie.” When he saw Jack hesitating he added, “You want to find Jon, don’t you? He’ll be up ahead. I won’t be surprised if he’s waiting for you.”

Jack nodded then turned to leave. He looked back when he heard Richie howl, only to see that the boys were on the floor and Mike had been sucking Richie’s dick.

With an ache in his heart and a pang of longing in his crotch, he moved on while listening to the quickly-fading snippets of banter from his two new friends.

“You bit my dick!”

“I thought you said you liked it!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t warn me you were gonna!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone get the easter egg i was going for with the character names? Anyone here like Stephen King? Did anyone see the metaphor I was going for with Jack's pumpkin candy basket standing in for his innocence? XD
> 
> If you got time, please visit me on twitter or discord especially if you wanna know more about my fic writing process and how you can be a part of it!
> 
> Thanks for reading my fics!!! I really love talking to you guys and meeting new damijon/jondami fans, so if you want to know more about me and my work, and talk and stuff, I have a twitter over here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/DSupersons (sfw)  
> https://twitter.com/SonsR18 (nsfw) (also locked, so msg me elsewhere to request a follow)
> 
> Come and say hi! I post fic updates there and I do comic edits too!
> 
> Also, if you discord, mine is gmartinez12#9930 :D


End file.
